Energy-Saving Tip of the Day

Labels: Cats: Golly

posted by Shephard @
5:08 PM | Alley Grafitti (click here to comment) 12

...Until She Sings....

Nope, I checked, it's contentment.
Before this whole giant life-eating snowball (aka B*lt) plowed through my life, I felt like I was on track as a writer, on my way to creating something, getting great feedback and making some actual progress.

Over the course of keeping our lives together in the craziness, I lost my own balance. And then they asked B to set sail immediately directing R*punz*l without a real break to speak of (from experience, I can tell you categorically that any vacation taken during Christmas will not feel much like time off).

So it's almost May now.
I'm still tired. Do I really have the drive and ambition it takes to get my writing in print? The unrelenting self-promotion in addition to the dedication to writing? I'm so tired from the last 6 months. People ask me if I've done any serious writing, and I laugh to myself. Between planning a wedding and keeping our lives together... I just had nothing left over. Even though R*punz*l looms on the horizon, I can see my pilot light is still burning, the desire to write is there. But at the moment, there's no wood to toss into the stove.

I've had agents tell me I need to write about mainstream straight issues and characters if I really want to get my novels published. I need to write for the genres that are acceptible. It's the real world, and that's how gay writers often survive.

The problem: I write for me, so it's hard to play their game. How do I know I write for me?

When I go see a wonderful movie, or when I read a fascinating or entertaining book, or watch a TV show I love.... there is an ever-present side-effect of invisibility that nags at me. I think how much I enjoyed it... why can't there be a story like this that has gay characters in it? And I think about how that would feel, just to enjoy feeling less invisible, to see myself in the pages of a novel or up on the silver screen. It's a rare thing. So I write to fill the void of this invisibility. That's why I write. Most of the gay people I know don't really feel this way. They just read the books and see the movies and take the invisibility for granted. We are used to it, really.

But I still have that ache to tell my stories, to write about the beautiful worlds, the riches lives of characters and cultures that populate my imagination. They're all locked behind the door of my mind. And I can't seem to figure out which key is best to unlock it all. A hundred keys too many.

I've noticed that sometimes my favorite songwriters suffer from the slings and arrows of happiness. Once they find their happy, their songs do not have the same pathos. I hope that is not what I truly suffer from... the contentment of a lovely life. But it makes it very hard for me to want to bust my butt to get the attention of a lot of myopic agents who are so busy searching for the next H*rry P*tter they don't see the value of diversity.

This blog keeps me writing. I still have the desire, if not always the ambition. That's enough to keep the pilot light lit. She hasn't sung yet, folks.

~Shephard

Labels: Writing

posted by Shephard @
3:45 PM | Alley Grafitti (click here to comment) 18

What a Lovely Day for a Post

Pincushion Flowers

The yard is blooming. My To-Do List is smaller. We are finally managing to see people for dinner (tho I still never know when B is going to work over). I think our lives are as normal as they are going to get, at this point.

As I sit here listening to a combination of hedge-trimmer and EuroPop (which has been known to cause a disturbance in the space-time continuum), I sink into the knowing moments of appreciation, those heartfelt blips on the emotional radar that serve as unfettered reminders of gratitude.

The will to blog has been like a flickering candle-flame for me lately, threatening to be snuffed out by the doubting winds. I've been hiding in my lists upon lists upon lists of things I need to do. But the in-box is never going to be empty. Ahem... Oboe and Mokee will now illustrate "hiding" for you:

When I fired up the computer this morning, I was met with this wonderful, sincere and kind comment on one of my posts. It's funny how a single message "from the Universe" can ring like a bell, and remind us that we all do matter somehow. All of us. The current generations seem to value fame, prestige and notariety at the top of their priority list. Shame they don't realize it's much easier to light candles and be valuable in smaller, healthier circles.

Pat Benetar said it best: "Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better, we belong, we belong together."

(and she said it with a children's choir, lime-green gloves and a Don-Johnson white-jacket; loved the 80's)

People should listen to Pat Benetar. Or Emerson. Or Ghandi. Or anyone who reminds them that we are more alike than we are different. I watch the media of late, and I see them fanning the fears and lighting fires of separation and unrest under a country full of undiscerning sponges. Maybe now is not the best time to be lazy, undiscerning sponges? When things get this bad, it's time to be a seive, not a sponge. In the last 5 months, we've become an angry country of Finger-Pointers. How's that working out for us?

The other day, I saw an organization that believes gay marriage will take rights away from straight people. I actually laughed. There are no conflicting rights. The fact that they think they have different rights than we do is the real problem. We all have the same rights. We are more the same than we are different.

In just 9 days, it will be 6 months to the date that we got married! I can't believe the time has flown so quickly. Just an fyi, but we have a lot of straight friends, even some religious ones, and not one of them has lost any rights. Imagine that. Although I suppose it is possible that a small minority of this country is losing the right to have their religion dominate the masses. Let them roil and rail. Truth floats. To quote another singer (Jewel): If I could tell the world just one thing, It would be that we're all OK, and not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful and useless in times like these.

Last night, we had mobile vet come by, just for peace of mind. To take a look at the furbeasts. Everyone checked out just fine. And we breathed a huge sigh of contentment. And I thought, this is it, right here, this is what truly matters. Healthy kitties. B home for dinner. Quiet and peace.

We're healthy. Our loved ones are healthy. Whatever comes our way, if we survive it, we win! I'm still breathing. I win! Hard to remember this in the face of all the flame-fanning fear-mongering going on, but I'm going to try. Here's to smaller, healthier circles. Here's to people remembering that separation-thinking gets us nowhere.

And to Pat Benetar's lime-green gloves.

~Shephard :)

posted by Shephard @
4:53 PM | Alley Grafitti (click here to comment) 7